Poker, Beer and the Apocalypse
by The Shrubbery King
Summary: When London becomes a battlefield strewn with corpses, drenched in blood and choked with smoke, there seems to be nothing alive in the old English city. However, a very different story is unfolding beneath the great city. In the filthy, rat infested sewers no less.
1. Chapter 1

Water dripped from the roof of the sewers as a man quietly jogged through the tunnels, his wispy and unshaven face showing his youth in the light of the torch he carried. Another explosion above shook a little bit of concrete dust from the ancient roof, causing the man to shudder. Picking up the pace, he ran a little faster while peering into the inky blackness over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed.

The smell of the sewer was unpleasant, but not as bad as he thought it'd be. Then again, he'd always prepared himself for the worst. His worn leather shoes stamped against the wet concrete as he kept running, hoping to distance himself from the chaos that was blooming above.

As he rounded a corner, he came face to face with another man. This one was decidedly older, with a rough greying beard and hair, dressed in a ripped and grimy plaid shirt.

"Gah! Stay back!" the older man shouted, levelling a sawn-off double barrelled shotgun at him, the light from the torch duct taped to it stinging his eyes.

"Okay, okay." The younger man said, raising his hands and his crowbar above his head. "Calm down. It's okay. I'm not going to attack you."

The older man nodded with a grunt of understanding. "Sorry. Been a little jumpy after… Well, whatever's happening up there."

Another distant rumble shook another cloud of dust from the ceiling as the two men approached each other.

"It's good to meet another survivor. What's your name?" asked the young man.

"Bert." He said in a gravelly tone. "What about you, kid?"

"Terrance." The younger man said.

Nodding, Bert sat down by the wall and picked a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a while with a lighter. "So, Terrance. Mind if I call you Terry?"

"Sure." He shrugged.

"Great. Anyway Terry, why'd you come down 'ere?" Bert asked. "More importantly, what the hell's goin' on up there?"

Terrence sat down and breathed a heavy sigh. "Well, that's a bit of a long story, but I guess we've got to pass the time down here somehow. I just hope they don't find us."

Getting up, Bert offered a hand to Terrance. "If you need a hidin' place I've got a little place not that far from here. Haven't used it for a few weeks, but it should still be there. Come on, I'll lead you to it."

Taking Bert's hand up, he and Terrance began walking as another muffled explosion could be heard.

"Damn bombs. London's not been attacked like this since the Blitz." Bert grumbled.

"Yeah, funny you should mention that." Terrance said. "I think it might be the same people responsible. Although I use the term 'people' loosely."

"Nazis? After all these years? The world's gone mad I tell you." Bert grumbled. The two marched on in silence a little while longer until they came to a rusted metal door. "Stand back, the thing's a little rusty if memory serves me."

Digging into his pocket and reaching out a screwdriver, Bert slid it into a weathered groove in the wall the lock connected to and lifted the latch, unlocking the door. Opening the creaky iron door, Bert revealed a small, cramped underground room. A single makeshift bed of cardboard and scrap cloth lay on the floor and three wooden boxes and a pallet were stacked together to make a crude table and chairs. A deck of worn playing cards sat on top of the table, its corners frayed and softened with use.

"Here we are, home sweet home." Bert said, striding into the small room. "Be sure to lock the door behind you."

Nodding, Terrance stepped inside and closed the door, locking it with a click. Bert took a seat at the table and rested the shotgun against a wall.

"You live here?" Terrance asked.

"Used to. Ever since I got kicked out of house and home. Dirty bastard landlord jacked up the rent when I was just about to pay it. I was just gettin' my life back on track too. Drinking problem gone, stopped smoking, tried my hand at carpentry, and it all gets screwed over by that greedy sonovabitch just because he wanted a little more cash. Had just tried cleaning up myself again before all hell broke loose." Bert spat. "But enough about me, Terry. Take a seat. We'll play some poker and you can tell me just what the hell's going on."

Sitting down, Terrance smoothed his neat blond hair back and sighed. "Okay, but I'm not sure what started the whole thing. But I'll tell you my end of the story…"

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

Terrance lived in a flat in London. He also worked there. In fact, it's where he spent most of his adult life. The grey drab walls of the smelly flat bored Terrance to no end, and his work didn't change much. Dressed in a neat button up shirt and long pants, he felt like he was dressed for the job. The only problem was he didn't get much work.

Terrance was a work at home accountant. Numbers. All day, every day, nothing but numbers. Managing other people's money whilst making a meagre living himself. He'd been told accounting paid relatively well, but the fact that he didn't get many customers given his unfortunate lack of advertising and declined applications to larger accounting businesses, most people thought he was just some scammer. While the thought of partaking in said activity had crossed his mind at least once or twice, he'd always reminded him that it was wholly immoral. Not to mention he'd be caught out by the police for it.

While he worked, Terrance liked to listen to his grandfather's old radio. It was one of those ham radios that they used in the early war. It could barely pick up any signals, but the ones that could play were alright. Besides, the radio held some sentimental value for Terrance.

It was as Terrance was sitting at his desk, fiddling with his pen and bored out of his skull when the radio he was listening to conked out.

"Argh, again?" Terrance grumbled as he reached over to the radio and began to fiddle with the dials. As he did, he began to hear a voice. "Ah, found it."

Focusing the radio signal, the voice was actually surprisingly clear, and what it said surprised him.

"Ve are approaching London now Major! Ve only have to cross the English Channel and ve vill arrive!" someone shouted.

"What the hell?" Terrance muttered to himself. "Is this some kind of radio play?"

Listening to the radio transmission more and more, he began to worry. What the hell had he come across? It sounded like military orders were going back and forth, but what was that about London?

A gasp came from the radio as someone started shouting again. "Major, there is someone listening in on our communications!"

Terrance gulped in fear a little, although it was probably just part of the radio play.

"Ve have traced the signal back to London! A small flat in ze middle of ze city!" the operator shouted.

Terrance was really scared now. He was pretty convinced that this was real now. Flicking the radio off and unplugging it, Terrance breathed heavily. It was probably nothing now that he thought about it.

"I need some coffee. Maybe something stronger." He grumbled as he got up from his chair. As he did, there was a knock on the door.

Making his way to the door, Terrance opened it cautiously. He could see a young boy with blond hair and a slight smirk on his face waiting patiently outside. Opening the door a little wider, he could see that the boy was wearing some kind of costume with cat ears, a yellow and black uniform and a miniature television by his side. But what struck Terrance most was the red band on his arm with a swastika on it.

"Who are you?" Terrance asked. 'Is that some kind of costume? What's going on?'

"Guten tag. I am Warrant Officer Schrödinger. I am a messenger for ze Major." The cat-boy grinned.

"Major?" Terrance asked before realising what was going on.

"Ze Major has a message for you." The cat boy said, turning on the mini television to reveal a rather plump blond man in a large white coat and glasses.

"Ah, so you must be ze person who has intercepted our radio transmission." He said with a grin. "Guten abend, Londoner."

"Who are you?" Terrance asked.

"I am ze Major, and I will soon be bringing var to your charming little hometown." He said, disturbingly cheerfully. "In fact, ve vill be arriving in London to start ze var very shortly."

"I… wha- war?" Terrance asked, obviously baffled.

"I can see zat you have not heard of us. Clearly you do not belong to the Hellsing or Iscariot dogs." The Major said. "It matters not. However, zere is something zat I am interested to know. Who are you, and how did you come to discover our radio transmissions?"

"I… My name's Terrance. I was just listening to my grandpa's old radio when the signal went down. I tried to get it back to where it was, but it seems to have caught your signal instead." Terrance said.

"Ah, how fascinating! Vell, it seems since you have been given zis early varning, you might not be counted amongst ze casualties. A shame." The Major said with a sigh. "Ah vell, ze eight million or so souls that will be killed around you should more than suffice. And who knows? You might just be amongst zem if I am fortunate."

"Eight million?! You're planning on killing the entire population of London?" Terrance shouted in disbelief.

"Quite correct." The Major grinned. "It vill be a glorious var! Such a slaughter has only been dreamed of before zis day!"

"You're insane." Terrance gulped.

"Perhaps to you, but in my eyes I am quite sane." The Major laughed. "Now, I believe zat herr Schrödinger must be elsewhere. Auf wiedersehen, Terrance of London!"

With a click, the miniature television flicked off and the cat boy grinned. As he turned and left, Terrance ran out of his apartment after him.

"Wait, what the hell's this war all about?" he shouted.

The cat boy looked back and began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Terrance asked.

"You do not know? Zen clearly you are no threat to us." Schrödinger laughed. As he rounded a corner, Terrance ran after him again.

"Wait, damn it!" he shouted, but as he looked around the corner he saw that the boy had disappeared. "What the…"

As Terrance walked back to his old flat, he began to think. This was all so very weird. It was almost unbelievable! But he couldn't deny all the evidence piled up in front of him. How would he get out of London anyway? The highways out of the city were always clogged like a glutton's arteries, on foot would've been impossible and the underground was almost always packed. It would take him at least a day to get out of London, and it was already extremely late at night. As the clock clicked over to eleven thirty, Terrance decided that if he couldn't run the next best thing to do would be to hide. Grabbing a backpack, Terrance began to stuff it full of canned food, as well as fitting in a small first aid kit, a torch and, of course, a copious amount of beer. Scrounging around a little more, he found the crowbar he'd bought to deal with a particularly stubborn cabinet door and had never used it since.

Closing the door to the flat, he thought about locking it but decided it was a waste of time. Sprinting down the stairs, he dodged around his girthful but certainly not mirthful landlord.

"Terrance?! The bloody hell d'you think you're going? Your rent's due!" he shouted.

"Shove it you bloody chav! You can have my apartment and everything in it for all the good it'll do you!" Terrance shouted, flipping the landlord the bird as he ran for the door. He'd always wanted to shout at his landlord, but there was never really an appropriate occasion for it.

As he ran out into the street, Terrance saw that people were staring at something in the distance. Three large zeppelins, the central one a red and black behemoth in the sky with two smaller white ones flanking it, all three bearing a swastika proudly. Feeling a stone drop into his stomach, Terrance bolted for the nearest manhole cover. Jamming the crowbar between the cover and the road, he pried open the manhole cover. Just as he got it off, he could hear a loud whistling sound. Looking up, he was just in time to see a bomb soar straight into Big Ben, causing the old clock tower to explode, sending ancient stone and clockwork crumbling to the streets. Jumping into the hole, Terrance grabbed the manhole cover and slid it back over the sewer entrance, plunging him into darkness.

Terrance clambered down the ladder in pitch darkness, eventually reaching the bottom and flicking on his torch. The thick stone walls muffled all sounds from above, but he could hear the explosions, the gunfire and the screams of innocents as they were slaughtered. A chill going down Terrance's spine, he began to walk through the sewer in an attempt to find someplace where he might be able to hide and wait out the fight going on above.

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

"So that's it, huh Terry?" Bert asked, dropping down a pair of twos. "Gotta say, I didn't believe you at first when you said Nazis were responsible for this."

"Yeah. Though I'm still confused as to how that little Schrödinger kid found me so quick. It was like he just appeared out of thin air." Terrance said, flipping over a king and a seven.

Looking at the river, Bert chuckled slightly. "Huh, two pair. You win." He muttered, taking a swig of the beer Terrance was so kind as to share. "So what about that radio? D'you think we can get it back?"

Terrance snorted a laugh as he shuffled the cards again. "Not likely. My flat's probably a pile of rubble by now. Though it would be nice to know just what the hell is going on up there." He said.

"Dunno if you'd even be able to get a signal down 'ere." Bert shrugged as Terrance dealt the cards. "Could try a couple of cans on a string."

"Hey, yeah." Terrance chuckled before taking another beer from his bag. "So how'd you get down here again? Didn't you say you had just tried to stabilise yourself again?"

"Yes, that I did." The old man sighed. "Unfortunately, didn't go exactly as planned. Things rarely do for me…"

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

Sheets of white paper were dropped back in front of Bert as the shop owner shook his head slightly.

"I'm sorry Bert, I don't think you've got good enough credentials. I don't think I'll be able to hire you even as an apprentice. Already got a few kids on the job." He said.

"Come on Derek, you've gotta help me out! I'd do anything to get a job, please!" Bert pleaded.

With a heavy sigh, Derek shook his head. "Sorry. I know you've had it rough these past few months, especially that fiasco with that bastard you call a landlord, but I've just got no spaces free. Besides, the work's dried up these past few months."

Bert sighed dejectedly and took his resume back. "Thanks anyway Derek."

"No problems." The builder said. "Hey, a word of advice though. It's probably a good idea to get out of London. Maybe head to the countryside."

"Why?" Bert asked.

"There's a little more work there. I hear Cheddar is needing some rebuilding after some serial killer tore up the place." Derek said.

Cracking a smile, Bert stood up to leave. "Thanks Derek. I'll see if I can go there tomorrow."

"Anytime." He said as Bert left the office. Night was fast approaching, so he thought that he'd better get back home.

Bert wandered through the London streets, his eyes glancing at all the seedy things going on around him.

'The world was better back in the old days.' Bert thought to himself. 'Nowadays everything is just about how much cash you can make before they stick ya in a pine box and dump your corpse in a grave.'

As he made his way to his apartment block, he saw that the middle aged woman at the desk was fastidiously sorting books.

"Evening Linda. Looking well." Bert said.

"Oh, Bert! Wait, I'm afraid I have some, er, rather bad news." The woman said quietly.

"What's happened?" Bert asked.

"Well… It's about the room." Linda said sadly. "As you know, I've been letting you stay in one of my vacant rooms for a while now until you can get some decent income. Unfortunately… It seems that we've been booked out. A group of backpackers came in tonight and rented out all our vacant rooms. I had to take all your things from your room."

"Oh, Linda…" Bert sighed.

"I'm sorry Bert, it's just that I… my son's condition has been getting worse of late and I can't pay for his medication and keep my hotel afloat with all that I currently have. I'm sorry Bert." Linda said.

"No, it's alright Linda. I've decided to move out to Cheddar tomorrow anyways. Nothing left for me in London." Bert said sadly. "I'm going to see if I can help rebuild the place. Maybe then they'll let me stay."

"Alright." Linda nodded before pulling a large hiking bag from behind the counter. "I managed to put everything in this bag you had in there. Even the uh… the gun."

"Oh yes, my old shotgun." Bert muttered quietly. "Thank you Linda. I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused."

"Oh don't be ridiculous Bert. It's the least I could do to help." She said. "Did you need money for the train? Do you have anywhere to spend the night?"

"Nah, I'll just walk there tonight. It's not too far to Cheddar." Bert smiled as he heaved the bag onto his shoulders. "It's like my Pa always said. Everything's within walking distance if ya walk long enough."

Linda made a thin smile and nodded. "Good luck." She said.

With a curt nod, Bert left the building and into the night. Bert smiled to himself as he walked through the packed London streets, looking towards his new future. Cheddar. It sounded like a nice enough place. Maybe it'd turn out alright after all.

But it was as he was walking that he saw a flash of movement above him. Looking up, he saw a rocket streak through the sky before disappearing over a few buildings. Moments later a violent explosion of orange and red flames roared over the buildings as many more explosions went off around the city! Running for a nearby alley, he tossed the bag from his shoulders and rifled through it, grabbing out his shotgun, a sawn-off double barrel with a torch taped to the end.

Another explosion rattled Bert's teeth, reminding him of his time as a near-infant child during the Blitz. How those bombs terrified him. Looking for a way to get away from the explosions and falling rubble, he looked down and saw a metal grate over one of the many London sewers. Grabbing a hold of it, Bert heaved as he lifted the grate away and tossed it aside. Looking to his bag, he knew he wouldn't be able to take everything with him. Another explosion rocked the ground and Bert jumped into the hole to escape from the fiery hell that London had become.

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

"Wow, that's pretty unfortunate." Terrance said as he handed Bert another beer. "Still, Cheddar's probably still going to be okay after all this is said and done."

"I hope so." Bert nodded. "But I just hope Linda made it out okay. When you said those bastards up there wanted to kill everyone in London, I felt my heart skip a beat."

Terrance sat in silence for a little while before taking another swig of his beer, the sounds of another bomb being dropped. "So what should we do now?" he asked.

Bert let out a heavy sigh as he dealt the cards again. "I guess we just wait it out, like a storm or a blizzard."

Terrance chuckled slightly and sighed. "I've always hated waiting. It just seemed like all I ever did. Waiting for a client to call, waiting for transactions to be made, waiting for the bus to arrive… always waiting, never really getting anywhere."

"I've felt that way too." Bert nodded. "I felt like that every time I had to live on handouts. When my parents couldn't support me, when I was always looking for work, even when trying to get a half-decent drink. Always just waiting."

As the two of them sat in silence, Terrance thought that he could hear something. Footsteps, shuffling, the occasional groan. Picking up his crowbar, he made his way to the door.

"What is it?" Bert asked.

"I think I can hear someone." Terrance said, unlocking the door and opening it just a crack. His eyes widened as he saw hundreds of purple glowing eyes in the darkness. Slamming the door shut and locking it again, Terrance pinned himself to the wall as hands began to beat on the iron door.

"The bloody hell is that?!" Bert shouted, grabbing his shotgun.

"I… I don't know! Zombies?" Terrance gulped. "Whatever those things are, they aren't human!"

As the things continued to bash against the door, Bert's teeth became slightly less on edge. "Well whatever these things are, they don't seem to be smart enough to use a screwdriver. I think you may be right about the zombie bit."

Looking through his bag, Terrance grimaced. "We've got enough food for a few days, but I don't think that human flesh rots in only a matter of days."

"That's a little morbid, but yer right." Bert sighed. "Why'd you have to go an' get em angry like that? This noise is driving me bloody crazy!"

"It's not my fault! I didn't know that there were bloody zombies out there!" Terrance shouted.

"It **is** your fault! If you just ignored it then we wouldn't be in this mess!" Bert roared.

Terrance was about to shout again before he stopped himself and took a deep, measured breath. "Okay, tensions are running a little high right now. I'm sorry for shouting at you like that. We've just got to keep ourselves calm, and not lose our heads."

Bert clenched his jaw and took a breath as well. "Good idea. No point in arguing now that we're both in the same boat."

Sitting back down at the makeshift table, the game commenced again, now with the chorus of a thousand beating hands on the door.

Hours passed, and the beating continued ceaselessly. But at this point, it seemed like the two of them were getting used to it. But that was until another noise was heard. The sound of blades slashing through flesh and gunfire could be heard just outside.

"Something's going on out there." Terrance said.

"More survivors?" Bert asked hopefully.

As the sounds of combat ceased, a bit of shuffling could be heard outside. A small click was heard and a single gunshot rang out as a large bullet smashed through the lock of the door, going straight through and into the makeshift table. The door was kicked open, revealing three white robed men in tall pointed hoods, each carrying an exceptionally large gun.

"More heathens! Prepare to join your fellow sinners in Hell, Prodestant swine!" shouted one of them as he levelled his gun at Bert.

Terrance leapt up and knocked the barrel of the gun away from Bert as the hooded man fired, a burst of bullets cracking into the concrete wall. Bert grabbed his shotgun and sprang from his seat, charging the man and slamming an elbow into his face, knocking him to the ground. The two behind him aimed their weapons in surprise, but Bert was faster with a less cumbersome weapon. With two shots, both the other hooded men fell, their lives ended by a parade of buckshot. The first man groaned and was about to get to his feet when Bert slammed a heel into his forehead, knocking the man's skull to the ground with a sickening crunch. Bert breathed heavily and stretched his spine with a groan.

"Been a while since I've had to move that much." He groaned while Terrance stared on with horror.

"Y-you just killed them. All three of them, dead." He muttered.

Bert sighed and reloaded his shotgun, dropping the empty shells on the ground and taking two new ones from his pockets. "Look Terry, there's one harsh reality of war. People die in war. I know it sounds obvious, but when someone tries to kill you the best response is to kill them right back. That Major fella said that this was supposed to be a war, didn't he?"

"I… I guess." Terrance said. "But still, we could've explained-!"

"No we couldn't have!" Bert shouted, interrupting Terrance. "If they were looking to save lives, they wouldn't have shot the lock off my door, they would've knocked! Besides, you heard what they said. Their fingers were on the trigger the whole time. They never intended to spare us."

Terrance sat in silence and nodded as Bert looked over the corpses.

"These men don't look like Nazis, do they Terry? No, if I had to guess I'd say that they were Catholics. But why some feet-kissing pew-sitters are making a militaristic stand in the middle of a Nazi invasion I've got no idea." Bert said in a low grumble. "But whatever their cause, they've shot the lock off my door."

"What do we do now then?" Terrance asked.

"Well this place isn't safe anymore. That much is certain." Bert said. "The only thing we can do I feel is go somewhere else. Move quickly and quietly, and hopefully try to avoid detection. Maybe we might find some other survivors here as well, maybe find someone who knows for sure what's going on."

Terrance got to his feet and nodded, picking up his crowbar and his bag of supplies. "Sounds good."

"You can leave the cards here. Probably won't need them anymore." Bert said as he flicked the torch on the end of his shotgun on and began to peer around the dark sewers.

"Alright, let's go." Terrance said, dropping the cards onto the table.

As they marched through the sewers, Terrance gripped his crowbar tightly. You can only be almost killed so many times in one night before you start getting jittery. Another muffled explosion sounded from above, shaking loose some more dust from the ceiling. But then, they heard the sound of a stone drop behind them. Looking back, Terrance saw that a bomb seemed to have shaken loose part of the sewer brickwork. Unfortunately for them, that meant that the sewer was now collapsing behind them!

"Oh shit, run!" Terrance shouted as he and Bert began to sprint for their lives on the wet concrete below them.

Leaping over troughs of water, their legs pumped like pistons as they fled from the avalanche of brick behind them. As they continued to run, Bert shone his torch further up.

"It looks like a dead end!" he shouted.

"No, it's a corner!" Terrance gasped as they got closer. As they rounded the bend Terrance slipped and fell. Scrambling to his feet, he could see the rapidly approaching wall of death.

"We don't have bloody time for this!" Bert screamed as he grabbed Terrance by the shirt and pulled him along behind him before Terrance started running himself.

Eventually the thundering sound of the falling rubble stopped. They stopped, bent double with exhaustion as they looked at the wall of fallen rubble, concrete and tarmac from the streets above. Leaning up against a wall, Bert tried to catch his breath again.

"It doesn't... look like we're... going back that way... again." he huffed.

Terrance breathed an agreement before he spotted something in the distance. A few small pinpricks of light in the dark. As Bert shined his torch on it, he saw that it was a ladder!

"Hey, I think that leads to the surface." Terrance said.

"Alright, let's go investigate." Bert nodded.

As they walked towards the ladder, Terrance looked up the manhole exit and something dripped onto his face!

"Eurgh! I think some sewer water dripped on my face!" Terrance spat, before noticing that the water didn't taste like water should. Wiping a little of the liquid from his face he flicked on his own torch and saw that his hand was bloody!

"That's not water Terry." Bert muttered as he shone his light upwards. Above them was a manhole cover, but it was dripping blood! "Looks like the streets have turned into rivers of blood. Something almost biblical about that isn't there?"

"Oh god." Terrance gulped, wiping the rest of the blood from his face with his sleeve. "That's disgusting."

"Disgusting, but helpful." Bert said. "If there're dead people around, then that means that there's nobody who wants to kill us about. Can't you hear it? It's all quiet up there."

Terrance paused to listen as well, the only sound he could hear was the trickling of the water in the sewer beside him. "You're right. Shouldn't we stay down here though?"

"They haven't been dropping bombs for ages 'cept that last blast, and it's dead quiet up there. All the fighting's happening elsewhere. Not to mention it smells of nothing but crap down here." Bert said. "I think that's more than enough reasons. Besides, we can always scrounge for some supplies."

Terrance thought a minute longer before nodding. "Alright. Let's get out of here."

"You first." Bert said, opting to let Terrance climb the ladder underneath the manhole cover dripping with blood.

Bracing himself, Terrance began to climb the ladder that was slick with blood, feeling more droplets of ichor splatter against his face. As he reached the top he pushed aside the manhole, seeing a small stream of blood flowing into the sewers below. As Terrance got out of the sewers, he offered a hand to Bert.

"Here, let me help you up." He said as Bert grabbed his hand.

"Thanks Terry, I owe you one." Bert nodded in thanks before his jaw dropped in horror. "What in the name of all that is holy…"

Corpses littered the street as far as the eye could see. Men, women, children, infants, elderly, people of all races and creeds lay dead in the streets in front of them, all their blood coming together to form a giant puddle of red blood. Around them, buildings were in a state of destruction. Shattered windows, crumbling walls and destroyed concrete was all around them, forming piles of rubble and giving the entire street a desolate, wasteland look that Terrance thought could only be seen in war movies.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Terrance gulped, putting a hand to his mouth. However that only made it worse, as now he could taste the blood on the ravaged streets.

"Whoever did this can no longer consider themselves human beings." Bert said with a furious scowl.

Terrance looked around and gulped. "Well, we can worry about this later. Right now we-" he began before he saw something that caused him to stop mid-sentence. "What the… what the hell is going on?!"

The blood on the ground was beginning to move. Not by gravity, or by wind, but all of its own accord. Bert and Terrance stared in horror as the puddle of blood began to move faster and faster until a rumbling sound at the other end of the street could be heard. Looking over, they saw a biblical sized river of blood hurtling towards them at a terrifying speed.

"Get off the street!" Terrance shouted as he and Bert sprinted to the ruined buildings. The river of blood rushed past them as they leapt to higher ground, taking the form of an overturned car. Terrance watched as the blood on his hands, the bottom of his shoes and even the blood that had been soaked into his clothes turned into droplets that disappeared into the rushing river of blood.

"What the hell is happening? Is this the apocalypse?" Bert asked.

"I'm not all that familiar with the order of things, but don't the four horsemen appear first?" Terrance asked with a slight chuckle.

"Heh, aye. And what about that rain of frogs?" Bert laughed.

As the two watched the surreal sight before them, Terrance took the bag off his back and pulled out two more bottles of beer. "You know, if this really is the apocalypse then I think God might forgive us for having another couple of rounds. He knows we'll need it."

"Well said." Bert said, taking another bottle and opening it.

"Shame we didn't bring the cards." Terrance muttered before taking another swig.

"Aye, but I don't think we'd be able to play that well on the body of an upturned car." Bert shrugged.

"But one question I've got is where is all this blood going? And where's it all coming from?" Terrance asked.

"How should I know?" Bert laughed. "But in all honesty, I don't think we want to know the answer to yer other question."

"I'm just saying, it's got to run out eventually." He shrugged.

The two sat in silence once more, solemnly watching the horrifically literal river of life rush by them on all sides.

"You know, I never liked London." Bert muttered. "It's filthy, it's cold, it's wet, the pubs are awful, the people are worse, and the coppers just don't give a damn. But I met some good people here. I'll be sorry to see 'er go."

"You don't think they'll rebuild? Maybe make it better?" Terrance asked.

"Look around Terry. This isn't London anymore. Even the Blitz didn't wreck the place this bad." Bert said, indicating to the destruction all around him. "They'll probably just pick up their roots and carry themselves off to make a new capital somewhere else. This place'll just fall into even more ruin before it becomes nothing but a memory. It'll go from there to legend, then myth, then very soon, nothing at all."

"Maybe." Terrance said, a small smirk on his lips. "Or maybe we won't give up. This is just a setback. This place can be rebuilt. Maybe even made a little bit better. You'll see. This isn't the end of London."

Bert chuckled lightly before letting out a wistful sigh. "Maybe for you it's not, but for me it is." Bert said. "I'm old. Too old. I've been living on borrowed time for a long time now that I think about it. One of these days I'll just be too old to go on anymore. But don't worry, when this old candle goes out I'll be just as full of piss and vinegar as I was when I was eighteen years old! Hahahaha!"

"Damn right!" Terrance laughed. "I think that calls for another drink!"

As the two of them drank together and laughed, the sun began to eek over the horizon.

"Well, wouldja look at that." Bert said. "Never thought I'd see a sunrise in London."

"It's always hidden behind the buildings. Guess that's something." Terrance said as he drained the bottle. "Think the whole river of blood thing is slowing down too."

True to Terrance's word, the river of crimson slowly started to run dry until the corpses on the road were nothing but withered husks, the road completely dry. Jumping down from the car, Terrance turned to Bert.

"Come on, we'd better keep looking for survivors." He said, offering a hand to Bert.

"Sure, sure. I just ran out of beer anyways." Bert laughed as he got down from the car.

The two of them walked for a good while, observing the damage on the streets as the sun began to rise higher and higher.

"Can you see the blimps anymore?" Terrance asked.

"No, they must've flown away." Bert said, scratching his beard.

"Why'd they come on blimps anyway? Haven't they heard of fixed wing aircraft?" Terrance joked.

"Aye, bet they don't know how to even fly a plane!" Bert laughed.

Almost out of nowhere, a huge explosion rocked the ground and blasted wind through the air, a great orange, red and yellow cloud of fire bursting up in the distance.

"Bloody hell was that?!" Bert shouted.

"I've got no idea." Terrance said shakily.

Bert looked over to Terrance and saw that, in his great surprise of the blast, he'd fallen over. "C'mere. Let me give you a hand." Bert chuckled.

"Thanks Bert." Terrance said as he was hauled to his feet. "Right. I think we should go check out what made that noise. I think anybody who heard that might also be investigating."

"Hold it!" shouted a voice from behind them. Bert and Terrance whipped around to see a young, very tired looking woman with shattered spectacles and a missing eye shadowed by another young woman in a dark red uniform, ripped stockings and blond hair.

"Who are you?" Bert asked, clutching his shotgun.

"I think a better question is who are **you**?" The woman said.

"I'm Terrance, and this is Bert. When we saw the zeppelins and heard the bombs, we went into the sewers where we met." Terrance explained.

"Then… then you're all that's left." The woman said, both aghast and dismayed. "Eight million people, and only two of you survived."

"Only… only two?" Bert asked.

"We're still getting the reports, but it doesn't look like anyone else has made it out alive." The woman said. "Eight million people. An **entire** city, gone in a single night. And you. You're the only two that made it."

Terrance looked around, the weight of their calamity finally sinking in. While people died upon the hundreds and thousands, he and Bert were sitting in relative comfort and peace below the city, drinking beer and playing card games. The thought of it sickened him.

"Well, I suppose you two will want an explanation of all… this." The woman sighed heavily.

"Aye, but what's your name first?" Bert asked.

"Integra." She said. "Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. But just for now, you may call me Integra. I don't think I want to deal with formality after everything that's just happened. Seras. Find a us car and bring it around. We're going home."


	2. Epilogue Part 1

Integra sat at her desk, sunlight streaming in through the shattered windows behind her as she put a cigar to her lips and lit the end. Taking a long drag, she sighed heavily and ran her hand over a desk that was once polished to a mirror shine, now pocked and marred by bullet holes.

"So, Terrance and Bert was it? Now before I tell you what caused this battle, I'd like to know how you two survived." She said, an eye patch now covering her left eye.

Terrance and Bert sat on the opposite side of the desk, examining the woman that had brought them to this half destroyed manor.

"Well, it's as we said. Bert and I met down in the sewers when we were trying to escape the bombs falling on London." Terrance said. "We stayed in a secret room until we were discovered by some weird guys in hooded robes."

"Iscariot Knights? Perhaps they were looking down there for survivors like yourself." Integra mused. "What became of them?"

Terrance grimaced at the gory memory as Bert grunted. "Killed 'em. They had us at gunpoint. Nothin' else we could do."

"I see." Integra said, folding her hands together. "And after that? If memory serves me there was a collapse in the sewers."

"Aye, there was." Bert nodded. "We had to outrun the collapse, but we made it okay. Sewers will probably need to be rebuilt though."

"Then we went back to the surface to try and find some more survivors, but then…" Terrance said before trailing off. "Well, I don't really know how to describe what happened."

"A river of blood?" Integra suggested.

"Yeah." Terrance said dumbly. "What the hell was that anyway? I-it just started moving all on its own!"

"Not on its own." Integra said. "It was being absorbed by the Hellsing family vampire, Alucard."

"Vampire?" Bert asked. "Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I'd have problems believing you, lass."

"Wait, vampires? What, like Dracula or something?" Terrance chuckled nervously. "Nazis in this day and age I can barely believe, but vampires?"

"Why yes." Integra said with a smirk. "Not only that, but this world also contains werewolves, ghouls, cultists and many other creatures of the night. The fact that these nightmarish things exist is the reason why the Hellsing Organisation was founded, to protect England from any supernatural threats to the Crown."

"I don't buy it." Terrance said, folding his arms. "It's just too unbelievable."

Integra's smirk grew a little wider. "Well, if you want some further proof then you only have to look behind you."

"Huh? Behind me?" Terrance asked, turning around to see what Integra meant, but there was nothing there.

"Gah!" Bert jumped. Looking back, Terrance also jumped in surprise to see the woman in the uniform standing by Integra.

"This is Seras Victoria, one of the few vampires sired by Alucard." Integra said, introducing the other woman.

"Hello." She nodded a greeting. Terrance and Bert were immediately put off by her glowing red eyes and the strange arm that pulsated with a dark energy.

"Sh-she just appeared. Right out of thin air." Bert mumbled.

"Okay, that's a neat trick but I still don't believe it." Terrance said, his voice cracking a little.

"You are a hard one to convince." Integra smiled tauntingly. "How wonderful it must be to be so blissfully ignorant of the things going on around you."

"Hey, I don't-" Terrance shouted as he got to his feet, but in a flash of barely visible movement the woman was in front of him, gloved hand wrapped around his throat faster than he could even blink.

"There. That proof enough? Now sit down." Seras said dangerously, taking her hand off Terrance's throat. Terrance stumbled backwards slightly and landed back on his chair with a thud, heart only then beginning to race.

'Wha-she just appeared! Just like Bert said!' Terrance thought as he caught his breath.

"I suggest you don't do anything stupid Terry. It doesn't appear like were out of trouble just yet." Bert warned.

"I brought you both here to give you an explanation. You're free to leave whenever you wish." Integra said. "Now, if you're quite finished flapping around like a startled pigeon, I'll continue."

Terrance sat back and tried to calm himself down as Integra began to explain.

"This whole ordeal started several months ago, in Cheddar." Integra said, the name of the town causing Bert's ears to perk up.

"The serial killer?" Bert guessed.

"Precisely. He was a vampire that had appeared and turned the entire population into ghouls, deflowered humans who have turned to an incurable state of mindless savagery." Integra said. Terrance's mind thought back to the sewers, and the zombie like creatures that smashed their hands endlessly on the door.

"We saw a few of those down in the sewers. The ones we saw were killed by those Iscariot Knights before they turned their guns on us." Terrance said.

"Then there may be more down there." Integra said worriedly. "Seras, remind me to send whatever battle-ready troops we have down there to destroy the rest of these ghouls."

"Yes ma'am." Seras nodded before vanishing again.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, Cheddar. After we dispatched Alucard to destroy the ghouls and the vampire, he decided to sire Seras after he reportedly shot her through the chest to destroy the vampire that was using her as a shield." Integra breathed. "Afterwards several other indiscriminate attacks were made, all vampires. We had no idea where they were all coming from until they attacked us. After a while the group responsible revealed their name. Millennium. A battalion of a thousand Nazi vampires bent on destroying London, led by a warmongering maniac who believed his sole purpose was to cause war."

Terrance thought back to the strange and disturbing conversation he had with the man in the white suit from before the wars began to fall. "You mean The Major?"

"You know of him?" Integra asked, looking at Terrance above her glasses.

"I… Before the attack I was trying to get my grandad's old radio back to a music channel when I think I broke into their communication. Seconds later a weird kid with cat ears appeared with a small television, and then that… man, he talked to me. Wanted to know who I was. He said something about Hellsing and the Iscariot and his plans to destroy London." Terrance said.

"And you didn't try to warn anyone?" Integra asked.

"Who'd believe me?" Terrance shrugged. "Besides, buy the time I knew what I was going to do the bombs were already falling."

Integra made a snort of understanding and nodded. "Fair point. Now as I was saying, Millennium's purpose was to destroy London, but its true goal was a far more lofty aim. They wanted to kill Alucard."

"So this Alucard person, I take it that the tried and true methods don't apply to 'im?" Bert asked.

"Indeed not. We thought him completely indestructible and invincible." Integra smiled sadly. "However, they were successful."

"How?" Terrance asked.

"That child with the cat ears you talked about." Integra said. "That boy had the ability to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, just like his namesake. However this ability was only stable when he was aware of himself as an individual. When Alucard killed him and absorbed his blood, Schrödinger was lost inside Alucard and lost his individuality. Thus Alucard was removed from existence."

"Removed from existence?" Bert echoed.

"Well, that's one way to do it." Terrance shrugged.

"It seems so." Integra said bitterly, extinguishing the cigar on her ruined desk. "Well, now that I've explained everything I assume that you two are satisfied?"

Terrance looked to Bert as the older man clenched his jaw. "You know Terry, I didn't think it'd end up being something like this." He said to his friend.

"Yeah." Terrance nodded.

Integra leaned back in her chair and folder her hands over each other, placing them on her lap. "Now that that's sorted there's something I'd like to know from you. What are you going to do now?"

"I'm old. I want to find somewhere where I can retire and live in peace. Though from what you've said I don't think I'll be sleeping right for a long time." Bert said. "I thought I'd help rebuild Cheddar, see if I can get a home there. Don't know if I'll be able to though."

Terrance nodded as he thought about what he was going to do now. "I've got no idea what to do anymore. My flat's been demolished, all my clients are probably dead, and I'm going to be looking over my shoulder everywhere I go from now on. I can't go back home either. Not after..." Terrance said, trailing off. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"I see." Integra said. "Well, after most of my men were murdered by Millennium's soldiers, I find myself in need of a new set of staff. There's plenty of work and plenty of board in my estate if you're interested."

Bert and Terrance looked to each other and nodded.

"Aye, I think we'll take ye up on your offer." Bert nodded.

"Got nowhere else to go." Terrance said.

Integra smiled and nodded. "Very well. It's good to have you aboard."

The door opened once again and Seras strode into the room. "Sir Integra, I've just talked to the other men and none of them are in any condition to fight. All of them are either injured or dead."

Integra scowled and groaned, massaging one of her temples. "This is just perfect. There's just no telling how long those ghouls will be festering down in the sewers now. And they could be spreading to other cities as we speak."

"Sir Integra, I could go destroy the ghouls that are in the sewers." Seras offered.

"No. I need you here Seras, by my side." Integra said. "There's a possibility that there might be some rogue elements still left that wish to kill me and destroy the Hellsing Organisation. Right now I can't afford to rule out any surprise attacks."

"Yes Sir Integra." Seras nodded. "But what about the ghouls?"

Terrance thought for a while before speaking up. "How about we go?"

Integra raised her head to look at Terrance, a bemused look on her face. "You? Have you got any idea what you just offered to involve yourself in? You're an accountant, not a soldier."

"It's true I might not know the full extent of it. I just know that it's important and needs to be done." Terrance said. "If it needs to be done, it has to be done by somebody, accountant or not."

Integra chuckled. "You talk as if it will be easy. The sewers of London are a maze, and we have no way of knowing where these ghouls are. They could come at you from any and every direction, and you would be alone."

"Not alone." Bert said gruffly. "I know those sewers like the back of my hand. Lived down there for years. Besides, I've been in plenty of worse situations than what you just described. I might be old, but I've got some fight left in me."

Integra seemed to take Bert's words seriously before nodding. "Alright, I'll let you two take care of this mess in the sewers. But for now you should rest. Dismissed."

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

After a surprisingly good night's sleep, both Bert and Terrance had received a Hellsing Organisation uniform and were told to report to Integra for their briefing. As they arrived back in her office, they saw that she had a few cardboard boxes piled on the desk behind her.

"There you are. I would remind you that now that you are under my employ, you must be punctual at all hours of the day." She said, a cigar in her hand.

"Yes Integra." Terrance said.

"That's **Sir **Integra to you!" she barked.

"Y-yes sir!" Terrance yelped.

"Good." Integra nodded. "Now that you are now both my soldiers, you'll need some appropriate equipment. Unfortunately our armoury was almost depleted in an attack we have had sparse munitions, but fortunately a few items were able to be saved."

Turning to the desk behind her, she opened one of the boxes and pulled out a huge triple barrelled break-open shotgun. Terrance could see his own face reflecting off the highly polished and engraved exterior of the enormous shotgun, while Integra held it by the polished maple wood furniture with relative comfort.

"What in god's name is that?" Bert asked.

"This is the Hellsing Special Tri-Barrelled shotgun, '_Victoria_'. It was a collector's item that was confiscated by the police after a raid on a civilian's home who fancied himself an amateur vampire hunter. However through various mishandlings and incorrectly filed paperwork, it ended up in Hellsing's armoury." Integra explained. "Since then, to better suit it to vampire hunting it has been modified to fire a custom made eight gauge shell and fires silver slugs, silver plated flechette rounds and for very limited situations, eight gauge Dragon Breath rounds, all manufactured on site by the Hellsing Organisation."

"Eight gauge? That'd knock a man down if he tried to fire that thing!" Bert said.

"Well, it was not originally intended for a mere man." Integra said. "When we received it, I had tried to give it to Seras for a more close range option in combat. However she never could get the hang of reloading it."

"I don't suppose I can use my old shotgun?" Bert asked.

"While you might, I think you'll find extreme difficulty in putting down those ghouls with a mere twelve gauge and conventional ammunition." Integra said. "As for you Terrance, I believe I've found something that should be of use to you, even if I do not find it to my particular tastes."

Reaching into another of the boxes, she pulled out a pistol that looked like it would more accurately be described as a miniature cannon made of pitch black steel, the construction inlaid with silver writing that looped and curled across the barrels that read '…Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…'

"A three five seven magnum chambered Desert Eagle, customised with an extended ten inch barrel. Includes a drum magazine if you feel the need to add more weight to the blasted thing and fires custom made silver tipped hollow point rounds." Integra explained, feeling their weight in her hands. "This was a gift to me from a visiting American Church ambassador. It disgusts me. It's too large, too heavy and even with the extended barrel it's wildly inaccurate. Just like that lumbering ambassador."

"But… I'm not really comfortable with guns, let alone one as big as that… thing." Terrance mumbled.

"Then you'll have to get used to it." Integra said. "Unless you plan on killing hordes of ghouls with that crowbar you dragged in with you, I suggest you take it."

"Yes sir." Terrance nodded as Integra handed him the giant pistol. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun he felt a wave of sickness come over him, but he gritted his teeth and held on to the weapon.

"Good. Now get down to the sewers. There's a car waiting for you. You'll also be supplied with combat harnesses with built in torches and whatever ammunition we can spare. Good hunting." Integra ordered.

"Yes Sir." Nodded Bert. "Come on Terry, I'll show you the ropes once we get down there."

"One last thing." Integra said loudly as they turned to leave. "Come back alive. If you are turned into a ghoul, there is no option besides a mercy killing. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir Integra." Terrance nodded.

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

As the car rolled through the ruined streets of London, Terrance stared out the window at the various uniformed men clearing away the rubble, sifting through London's charred remains in the hope that a few other souls had made it. Terrance had his new gun tucked in a holster on his belt, his trusty crowbar also sheathed on his back. Bert also had a sheath on his back for _Victoria, _which he was currently closely examining in his hands. On his leg he had his old sawn off shotgun strapped to it for emergency situations.

"Never thought I'd have to be a soldier again." Bert said, fiddling with the giant shotgun he'd received. "But such is life I guess."

"You were a soldier?" Terrance asked, turning back to Bert.

"Aye, that I was." Bert said sadly, dropping a few hollow point slugs into the shotgun. "I did some terrible things Terry. Things that no real human should do. But nobody made me pay for what I did. No comeuppance for ol' Bartholomew 'Redboots'. Had to do it all by myself. But I guess that's justice. Nobody wants to slander a hero."

"Hero? You were a hero?" Terrance asked.

"To some, aye." Bert said grimly, snapping the shotgun closed. "To others, I was worse than a villain. All the scum of the earth would spit on my name. And for good reason. I was a soldier in Africa. There was a big campaign there and I was one of the best damn soldiers there. I killed thousands of enemy men. They'd send me in to a town with a squad of six others, and the whole town would be dead by morning. So would the rest of the squad if they weren't lucky. That's how I earned the nickname, see. Redboots. 'cause every time I'd come home, boots leaving a trail of blood red footsteps in the dust. I was the type of soldier who didn't discriminate in the worst possible way. Nothing was sacred to me. Not even life itself."

Terrance was horrified. "How could anyone call you a hero after that?"

"Because I helped win us the war." Bert said. "One day on a routine slaughter of insurgents I found I'd just killed the leader of the rebels without realising it. They only found out during the clean-up operation. They only knew it was me that did it 'cause his head was in little bits a few metres from where it was supposed to be. The rebels all scarpered and we got to go home early. It was only when I came back that reality began to sink in. Everything I'd done, everyone I killed, they all came back to haunt me. And still they called me a hero. I began to drink. Sold my house to keep drinking. Moved away from all my friends so I could drink myself to death alone. Started living in the London sewers. Figured if I was the lowest of the low, I'd better live like it. Then I got it into my head that I should just make peace with everything I'd done. So I moved into a flat. Still kept the drinking problem, only this time I'd get pissed at pubs instead of in the sewers. I'd get into fights. Almost put a punk kid in the grave after giving him the beating of a lifetime. Coppers tried to arrest me, but one of 'em recognised me. Called me a hero again. That bloody fecking word. I was let off with only a fine and a few months imprisonment. I knew I needed to clean up more. So I went cold turkey for a few weeks. Damn withdrawal almost killed me a few times, but I thought it was worth it. Then… well you know the rest."

Terrance sat in silence for a while, thinking over everything that Bert had told him. "Wow. I never thought… I'm sorry."

"Fer what?" Bert shrugged. "Don't worry lad, I don't need pity. What I need is a good death. Something to absolve me of everything I've done. Suicide just doesn't cut it."

"You tried to kill yourself?" Terrance asked, horrified.

"Aye. Few times actually. What d'you think I had that shotgun for anyway?" Bert asked. "Never could go through with it though. A monster like me doesn't deserve such a quick death."

"Then why were you so angry when you saw what had happened to London?" Terrance asked.

Bert sighed and shook his head. "I couldn't believe that there were people in this world who'd do anything like I did. And from what you told me about this Major feller, he sounded like he enjoyed it. Just like I did back then."

As the car came to a stop, Bert and Terrance were brought out of their conversation.

"There's your entrance." Said the driver. "Just radio back when you guys are done. Now go find and kill those ghoul sons of bitches."

Nodding, Terrance and Bert got out of the car which then drove off back to the manor. Taking the crowbar off his back, Terrance lifted the manhole cover from the street. Returning the crowbar to his back, Terrance pulled out a head torch from one of his pockets, flicked it on and descended the ladder to the sewers. Boots clanging down the ladder, Terrance looked around the ground below him before hitting the ground and drawing one of the massive guns that Integra had given him. Looking around, he couldn't see anything but sewers as Bert came down after him.

"Back again after everything we just went through. Let's get this over with." Bert snorted, drawing _Victoria _from his back.

Terrance nodded as they marched forwards on their patrol around the sewers. Water dropped from the ceiling, the sound reverberating through the seemingly empty sewers. Bert tapped Terrance on the shoulder and pointed to an intersection.

"This way Terry. I can hear 'em." Bert said before jumping over the narrow channel of sewerage.

Following the old soldier, Terrance readied his gun as the sound of soft groaning and shuffling grew louder. Bert narrowed his eyes as he approached a corner. Putting his finger on the trigger, he peeked around the corner and saw a group of ghouls all milling around in the filthy sewer water. No sooner had he looked around than all the ghouls turned their ugly heads towards them, their eyes glowing brightly in the dim sewers.

"Contact!" Bert roared as he raised up his shotgun and fired once into the crowd, blasting chunks out of several of the ghouls that were approaching, the huge wounds they received spilling blood into the sewers and causing a few of them to collapse, killed once again. "Bloody hell, this thing hurts when you fire it!"

Terrance looked behind them and heard several groans as a few purple lights began to appear at the other end of the sewer. Turning his light around, he saw that a group of ghouls was approaching them from behind!

"Bert! Behind us!" Terrance yelped.

"Well bloody shoot them!" Bert said, his shotgun giving another loud report as it turned an approaching ghoul into fleshy chunks.

'Okay Terrance, calm down. Just point and shoot. Ghouls are slow, you have all the time in the world.' Terrance thought as he pointed the oversized pistol at the closest ghoul and pulled the trigger, but it wouldn't budge! "Something's wrong! I think it's jammed!"

Another deafening gunshot later and Bert cracked open his shotgun to reload. "Turn off the safety you pillock! And don't hold the fecking gun sideways! You'll miss every shot if you do that!"

Fumbling with the gun, Terrance found the safety and flicked it off. Pointing back at the now closing in ghouls, Terrance aimed carefully down the sights and pulled the trigger. The gun jerked upwards as the bullet collided with the first ghoul's head perfectly, the hollow point round turning its head into a pulpy mess that splattered into the sewer as the rest of the ghoul followed. Gulping to hold down his own disgust of the gory spectacle, Terrance had no time to think as he took aim at the encroaching ghouls. Shot after shot, Terrance was able put the bullet into a seemingly lethal part of the ghoul, as the corpses began to clog up the sewer.

"Terry, we need to move!" Bert shouted as another blast from his shotgun turned a group of ghouls into messy paste. "These damn things are gonna box us in!"

"Alright!" Terrace said as he pulled the trigger again, only for it to make a click. "Shit! Where's the clip release?"

A few ghouls were getting dangerously close to Terrance. One of them made a move to grab him, but Bert whipped his sawn off shotgun from his thigh and put it to the ghoul's head, decorating the sewer wall with its brains.

"It's **called** a magazine! Now let's move!" Bert shouted as he began to run.

Terrance followed, eventually figuring out how to reload his gun. Inserting the drum magazine into the gun, he pushed forwards the slide as they stopped.

"How many did you kill?" Bert asked, reloading _Victoria_.

"I dunno? Five, maybe seven? I think one bullet went through two of them." Terrance said.

"Don't think that's possible. Hollow points don't work that way. You want to make every bullet count. You'll be surprised how quickly you run out of ammunition." Bert cautioned. "There're nine bullets per conventional magazine for Desert Eagle chambered with three five seven, plenty more with a drum mag. Remember that."

"Right." Terrance nodded.

"Here they come again. Eyes open." Bert said, raising his shotgun. A great number of purple eyes started to shine in the darkness, hungry growls starting to ring in their ears. "Keep calm, shoot to kill. And whatever you do, don't hesitate."

As the two began to fire upon the encroaching and stumbling ghouls, Terrance began to get worried.

"Why are there so many of them?! How did they all get down here?!" he shouted above the crack of his gun.

"This ain't the time for the hows and whys!" Bert said, reloading his shotgun. "It's do or die! You can think when we're done here!"

Terrance gritted his teeth as they continued firing. His hands were starting to numb from the sustained fire, and it didn't seem like the ghouls were thinning at all!

"We need to radio for help!" Bert shouted, pulling the trigger and blowing a gap in the approaching ghouls with the raw power of the silvered flechette rounds. "Terry, follow me!"

Terry turned and fled with Bert, glancing over his shoulder at the steadily advancing wall of ghouls. As they continued on their way, they saw another ladder going up to the surface. However past the ladder was another group of ghouls closing in on them.

"Shit! Up the ladder!" Terrance cried.

Bert climbed up the ladder and Terrance climbed up after him. After getting out from the sewers and back into the sunlight, the two of them stopped to catch their breath before sliding the manhole cover back over the sewer.

"You've got the radio?" Bert asked in a pained voice.

"Yeah. Is something wrong? Are you okay Bert?" Terrance asked, taking the radio off his harness.

"I think I might've pulled something." Bert groaned. "I've had worse, but I'm afraid these old bones of mine complain an awful lot."

Nodding in understanding, Terrance put his ear to the radio. "Hello? We've encountered a few problems. Can you come get us?."

"Okay, coming to pick you guys up." Crackled the response.

Terrance sat down on the ground again and put the radio back on his harness. "I should've just left when I had the chance. I'm not cut out for this."

"Aye, perhaps. But where would you have gone if you left?" Bert asked.

"Not home. That's for damn sure." Terrance mumbled.

*v*v*v*

*v*v*v*

Bert and Terrance were driven back to the estate, where they were immediately debriefed by Integra.

"So, I take it you found some ghouls?" she asked, cigar in her mouth.

"Aye, and how." Bert said. "Hundreds of 'em. Don't know how they could've got down there."

"Hundreds?" Integra asked.

"It was a little hard to tell down there, but there didn't seem to be an end to them. We'd kill a few but plenty more would just show up in their place." Terrance said.

"And were any of them armed?" Integra inquired.

"I… What?" Terrance asked. "You mean like they had guns?"

"Guns, blades, lead pipes, anything." Integra said irritably. "Now answer my question. Were. They. Armed?"

"No Sir Integra." Terrance said.

"Good. That means that nobody is controlling or supplying them. Right now they're just mindless, leaderless drones." Integra said. "However if there are hundreds of them, it would appear that a more efficient approach is in order. Seras!"

Moments later, the vampire woman came in through the door. "Yes, Sir Integra?"

"The situation is worse than we thought." Integra said. "It is because of this that I've changed my mind. You are to go down into the sewers and destroy the ghouls that are infesting the sewers."

"But Sir Integra, what about you?" Seras asked.

"I have reason to believe that these ghouls are merely leftover ghoulified citizens from the attack on London." Integra said. "As such, there should be no party controlling them. Destroying them should take little time. Besides, I doubt the Iscariot would be so brazen as to attack only a few days after they attempted another of their moronic crusades."

"Very well Sir Integra." Seras nodded.

"Terrance, Bert, you are to go with her." Integra ordered.

"Why?" Terrance asked.

"As capable as Seras is, I still believe that something may happen to her. This could be a trap." Integra said. "Seras will be more than capable of defending herself, so you do not have to worry about her. In fact I suspect that you wouldn't even have to draw your weapon if you're with her. All you have to do is follow her and ensure that nothing **happens** to her. Understand?"

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do that Sir Integra." Bert said. "Not as spry as I once was. I think I pulled a ligament when I was down in the sewers. Leg's been hurting like all buggery since we got out."

Integra sighed and nodded. "Very well. Hopefully one of the other remaining soldiers we have will know how to speed your recovery. In the meantime Terrance, you are to go with Seras."

Terrance looked at the imposing vampire woman and gulped. "Yes Sir Integra."


End file.
